Exquisite Corpses ― Mello x Reader
by NoorTheHood
Summary: (Y/N)has been an intern in forensic psychology at the Kanto PD for a year and a half. She was a very talented young woman, was often praised for her work, had a beautiful life... Until her younger brother got killed by Kira. (Y/N)then changes her name, destroys all proof of her existence and runs away. Which will eventually lead her to meet a very reclusive anti-Kira group...
1. Prologue

The old lady stared at me in despair, crying and sobbing like a child. Her short white hair awfully contrasted with her cherry red lipstick, which was slowly smudging as she wiped her nose and mouth.

"...I-I can't believe this is happening to me, we were _so_ in love..." She stammered. "He promised he'd take me to Bora Bora as soon as he'd finish his job and...and..."

She burst into tears as I rolled my eyes and handed her her third tissue box of the day. Gee, she's only been here for an hour and she's already consumed my entire stock.

Her tearful gaze encountered mine, while I was reviewing the information written down on my notepad.

"D-do you think you can do something? Do you know _why_ he left me?"

I sighed.

"Look, ma'am..." I replied, moving uncomfortably on my chair. "I don't want to hurt you, but...I am no private detective. I am only responsible for the psychological analysis of your, uh...ex-boyfriend. And if you're not willing to help me, then...I don't know what I can do for you."

She frowned and looked at me in the most snobbish way possible.

"What do you mean, _psychological analysis_?" She said in her posh accent. "My beloved Charles is totally sane. He definitely does _not_ need to be watched by a little brat of your kind that doesn't even know how to do her job."

I clenched my jaw, doing my best to stay calm.

 _Breathe, (y/n) , breathe. She's not worth your anger, don't let your feelings ―_

"Brat?! (Y/N)-chan is the best forensic psychologist you'll find in the Kanto region! M-Maybe even in the whole Japan! Don't you dare ―"

"Matsuda!" I gave him a deadly stare. "Sit back down, would you? Don't you see she's in shock?"

He looked at me, then at the old woman's face, and sat back on his chair while mumbling incomprehensible words.

I sighed again.

"Listen, Ms. Watanabe. I know it can be hard to understand, but we need your help more than we need the police for now." I made a pause, making sure she was listening to me. "You do realize he killed _four people_ , right?"

She looked away and kept staring at the wall for a few minutes.

I huffed and stood up.

"Alright, fine. Whenever you feel like you have something to tell me, you know where to find me." I grabbed my tumbler and my handbag and headed to the door. "In the meantime, I would like you not to try to keep in touch or contact him. He's a dangerous man. We'll make sure some officers guard your house for a few days. By then, goodbye."

I gave a head sign to Matsuda and he quickly took his coffee goblet, got up and followed me out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I can't believe it." He said. "How can you be so patient with these people?! They keep treating you like crap and you don't even care?"

"Matsu" I chuckled. "The people I deal with are mostly in shock, or in a state where what they stay doesn't really concord with what they think. I don't see why I'd get mad at someone who hasn't fully recovered from an... _unfortunate_ event."

He rubbed his neck, letting out an embarrassed laugh.

"Yeah, but...still..." He took a sip of his coffee. "By the way, do you have any idea what could've happened to her _'beloved Charles'_?" What's wrong with that guy? I've never heard of that case before. You said he killed four people?"

I laughed, then shook my head.

"It'd be too hard to explain for now, but I got my little idea." He raised an eyebrow and I smiled. "Well, since it's the end of the day, would you want to, uh, go out? I know a pretty cool Italian fast food near my place."

His face brightened.

"Y-Yeah! Sure! I would love t―"

"Matsuda."

We both turned to face the deputy chief Yagami. We bowed, blushing, knowing that in-work relationships were strictly forbidden to all employees, officers, investigators or even the poor lonely forensic psychologist that I was.

"Sir, that's-that's not what you think it is..."Matsuda stammered.

"We have some work to do tonight. I would prefer you stay here and help me with..." He glanced at me and coughed. "...business."

Matsuda froze, then nodded.

"Uh...I'll, uh, I'll see you later this week then." He waved and left with the chief.

I looked at the chief, then at Matsuda, and I understood something I didn't know was going on. I knew they were working on the Kira case, but to take such precautions not to talk about it in front of me...

Either they weren't trusting me, or they had something to hide.

In any case, it was none of my business, and all I did was politely nod, then leave the room without question.

* * *

As soon as I arrived home, I turned the TV on and looked for the news channel. As always, hundreds of pro-Kira militants were walking down the streets of God-knows-what-city, placards in hand, claiming their fidelity to that so-saying entity they were stupidly worshiping because of its deadly powers.

I sighed for the umpteenth time of the day.

It reminded me of the Nazi effect: the fear of getting killed pushed Germans to simply follow their leader's orders, no matter how cruel they were.

Pretty much the same thing was happening with Kira.

Kira, however, seemed to be _everywhere_. Which in my opinion was way more scary.

As I was about to change channel, my home phone rang.

 _Weird_ , I thought. _The only person who'd call me as such an hour would be...Mom?_

As soon as I heard my mother's voice in the phone handset, I knew something had happened. She was sobbing and crying, and my father had to take the phone from her hands to explain me what was going on. Judging by his voice, even my father was destroyed. That was _not_ a good sign.

"It's...it's your brother...(There was an incomprehensible part of sobbing)...He...he..."

I frowned. It was getting scary.

"What?! What happened to him?"

A moment of silence. Then, my father took a deep breath and replied.

"He just got killed by Kira."


	2. Part 1

**_A year later_**

"What do you think about these, Light-kun?" Misa Amane showed off her brand new heels to her boyfriend as her high-pitched voice echoed in the small room.

The young man ignored the girl's countless attempts to get his attention and kept looking at the computer monitors installed on his desk. He calmly typed something on the keyboard, then slowly turned to grab a pencil and a sheet of paper.

Noticing Light's evident lack of interest, Misa headed to the next room where the rest of the task force was united, discussing the Kira case around a nice cup of coffee. She jumped on the couch and started playing with a lock of her silky blonde hair.

"So, what are you guys doing today?" She asked playfully.

Aizawa looked at her hesitantly.

"We're still awaiting for Light's orders, it shouldn't take long now." He raised his voice. "RIGHT, LIGHT-KUN?"

No answer.

"Don't mind him, he's in a very stressful period right now." Soichiro Yagami claimed. "Just focus on the files, maybe we missed something."

Misa shrugged her shoulders.

"By the way" The girl asked. "Where's Matsu? I haven't seen him all day, is he alright?"

An uneasy silence came from the men.

"Um, yeah. He's uh, he's taking care of some personal business. It's his day off." Aizawa stammered.

"Oh well!" The girl jumped on her feet and went back besides her boyfriend.

"I wonder what's that mysterious business of his." She whispered before all her interest for Matsuda disappeared.

* * *

'1 year.' The man thought to himself.

'1 year since you left me without any explanation.'

He sighed and crossed his legs on the bench as some children passed by, playfully fighting with foam swords. It was your favorite place to go after work, even though you couldn't often come. You were a busy woman, he knew it, but in his opinion...you kind of focused too much on your work and didn't take enough care of yourself.

'I wish everything goes well for you, _..." He whispered to himself, tightening his grasp on the little keychain you gave him during your first month of work at the police station.

 _(Flash back)_

 _"(Y/N)!" The young man yelled. You could hear his feet stomp on the ground as he ran to your direction. "(Y/N)! Wait for me!"_

 _You rolled your eyes and turned to face him. At that time, you weren't quite best friends: he actually kinda got on your nerves, and his clumsiness often caused you problems during your interrogations._

 _"Matsuda" You said in a sigh. "What do you want?"_

 _The young man rested against the wall, panting. It seemed like he had been running after you for a while._

 _"I, I have to watch you as, as you talk to Ms. Asahina about her nephew's murder..." He closed his eyes and let out an exhausted 'phew'._

 _"I know." You said, raising an eyebrow. "But I'm only meeting her in two hours. You're way too early."_

 _Matsuda rubbed the back of his neck, obviously embarrassed. Right before he said anything, you eyed him from head to toe, noticing his missing ID car usually hanging by his neck. You crossed your arms against your chest._

 _"Oh my...Don't tell me you forgot your card AGAIN?!"_

 _He shyly looked at the groud, a slight blush appearing on his face._

 _"Well, I...I kinda forgot it in my car..." He said softly._

 _You raised an eyebrow._

 _"What are you waiting to go and get it then? It'll take you max 5 minutes, man..."_

 _He blushed even more, his face now hidden by his black locks. He let out a quiet cough and put his hands in his pockets._

 _"It's...well, it's just that..." He took a deep breath. "My keys are also in my car."_

 _You widely opened your eyes as he awaited for your reaction._

 _"...You..." You started, but didn't finish your sentence as you burst in laughter. His facial expression was hilarious._

 _Matsuda nervously looked up at you. He did his best to hide his surprise as he saw your smiling face._

 _"Matsu..." You wiped a tear of laughter. "It's alright, I'll say you're my assistant."_

 _His face brightened when he heard you saying his nickname, as you usually were so formal with your colleagues. He joyfully nodded and proposed to offer you dinner until he realized he didn't have his wallet with him, which made you chuckle. Matsuda then suggested you both go grab a coffee after work, and you happily accepted._

 _The following day, as it was your day off, Matsuda went straight to the locker room and opened the compartment to hang his coat. He then noticed something falling from the top shelf of his locker. As he leaned back to grab it, he realized it was a small keychain with a little panda plush hanging from it. A post-it with a message written in a curly calligraphy was sticking on the plush:_

 _'I wish this will help you be more organized from now on. I won't always be there to cover your butt. Not that I don't want you to come and seek my help anymore: it's nice talking to you, but you should keep your ducks in a row. You're still a cop, ya know._

 _P.s.: The panda is the clumsiest animal I know. That's why I thought it would be a perfect keychain for you._

 _P.p.s: Don't keep wondering how I opened your locker. You forgot to lock it again you idiot."_

 _Since that day, Matsuda never forgot his keys nor ID card again. He always kept the keychain with him, causing his colleagues to often mock him. But he didn't care: he knew as long as he had his panda keychain, he would never loose his stuff again. And more importantly, he would never loose you._

 _(End flashback)_

A woman came sitting next to him as he was about to leave. As soon as he stood up, he felt something brushing the pocket of his suit, but didn't mind and headed to his car. He didn't want to think too much that day.

All he wanted was going to the local bar and get drunk to forget all his memories.

"It's me!" Lea yelled as she got into the small apartment. "I have what you asked for."

You sucked on what was left of your liquid yogurt, then took the straw off and started playing with it with your tongue.

"How much?" You asked, glaring at the tall Spanish girl.

" _Meh._ " She answered, shrugging her shoulders., then threw the grocery bag in your direction. You caught it with your free hand, the other one busy noting down the new information told in the news from around the world. You closed your laptop and opened the bag to find a bunch of small milk cartons.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction as you opened one and felt the cold beverage running down your throat, its slightly sweet taste awakening your taste buds. You couldn't bear eating yogurt anymore: you needed real, untransformed milk.

Lea chuckled and sat next to you on the couch, taking away your laptop and opening it again.

"Anything new?" She asked hopefully.

You shook your head, staring at the ceiling.

"What about the mafia gang we contacted two months ago? Do you know if they ―"

"Man, Lea, let me breathe!" You growled, heading to the kitchen. You put the milk cartons in the fridge then got back in the living room, lying next to your friend on the couch.

"Nothing, huh?"

You hesitated, then put your hands on your face, slowly rubbing your temples.

"Nah." You huffed. "They're having a meetup downtown at their boss's place tomorrow, but it doesn't seem really serious. Looks more like a party to me.

"We should go. It's a great opportunity to make contacts."

You slowly nodded and looked at her with tired eyes.

"And you, apart from getting milk, did you do what I asked for?"

She chuckled and raised her eyebrows.

"Do you think I'd dare get back here if I didn't do what you told me?" You smirked.

"True." You let out a small sigh. "Was it hard finding him?"

"Not at all." She replied. "He was exactly where you told me he would be. The second bench next to the fountain and the third from the kid's playground."

You smiled.

"Moreover, he had that small panda keychain in hand you told me you gave him. And he was kinda cute."

You got back to standing position, tying your hair with a (f/c) elastic hair band.

"Don't say that."

And you went to your room with your laptop, leaving the other girl alone.


	3. Part 2

The following day, Lea and you had some plans before attending your potential collaborator's _"meeting"_. You wanted to prove them they could trust you and that working with your small group was totally safe for them. You knew they had already put you two under surveillance for a few weeks now, but you were pretty sure it was not convincing enough for them.

"I seriously have _no idea_ what to do." You told your friend as she was removing the tracking system off her phone. "Maybe we should get there and just...you know: _be there_?"

She shook her head, her eyes still on the small electronic device.

"Listen, I know that psychology is your thing and all, but _'being yourself'_ at a mafia meeting is probably not the best thing to do." She glanced at you. "Especially in your case. Don't you even dare _think_ saying you were once in the police."

You let out a long sigh and finished your milk carton.

"I think we should gather the rest of the team, at least for today." Lea approved as you grabbed your phone and called your teammates one by one. Only three of them were available for that night's meet-up, and it was more than enough for you.

"Well, I guess all we have to do now is wait."

* * *

That was the most horrible night of your life.

The party was taking place in a huge warehouse in the middle of the city. You were surprised nobody around minded the extremely annoying music or the execrable smell of marijuana.

You didn't expect that mafia gang to be so incompetent. Actually, you did not even consider them as a mafia anymore: consuming or selling drugs and narcotics was strictly forbidden in the mafia, considering it a filthy business. That rule was obviously ignored by those idiotic impostors, and just thinking about the fact that you've been focusing all your energy on getting this meet-up for months made you want to puke.

 _'How could I have been wrong about them for so long? What happened to my sense of deduction?'_

You started looking for Lea, wondering where she's been all night. You spotted her dancing flirtatiously with an old bald man, which gave you nausea: you knew it was solely for the good of the investigation, but it still made you cringe.

You decided to leave the party and go to a nearby conbini to get some milk. You didn't drink alcohol: it was bad for your intellectual capacities, and after meeting many people who'd known death caused from beer and similar addictive products, you decided to never lay your lips on an alcohol beverage.

Milk, however, had become your one and only addiction: not only was it good for your health, but its creamy texture made you forget all the bad things that had happened to you. It was a miracle, considering that _a lot_ of bad things had happened to you.

As soon as you got in the convenience store, the fresh smell of bleach and coffee invaded your nostrils. You headed straight to the beverage section, choosing carefully which of the small cartons you were going to buy. Definitely not skim milk: in your opinion, skim milk was nothing more than a lie. Water pretending to be milk. You _hated_ lies.

You did not know why you were thinking about that: it was almost 4 AM, and the quiet atmosphere of the small shop made you sleepy.

You grabbed a random carton, paid it and started drinking straight away.

A shiver crossed your spine as the liquid got into your mouth. It was absolutely―

"A coffee and an aspirin, please." Said wearily a familiar voice. You turned and let out a small gasp.

A tired Matsuda slowly grabbed the hangover medicine the employee handed him and drank it with difficulty. His black hair was a total mess, and his suit was in a terrible shape, just like his face.

 _'Shit!'_ You thought, quickly hiding behind the shelves of the chips alley. _'What the hell is he doing here?!'_

"I won't help you next time, Matsuda." Said an older man next to him, apparently from his team, judging by the poorly hidden gun on his belt. "Get your shit together. You're a grown-ass man."

 _'Why are they in a conbini at 4 AM?!'_

You then remembered that you were downtown, and that the headquarters of the anti-Kira task force were obviously downtown too: which meant it was normal for them to be there.

But _not for you_.

The papers you left at the police station after your brother's death _clearly_ stated you had been transferred to Vancouver to participate in the investigation concerning the recent manslaughter that had occurred in the East city. And Vancouver was _across the Pacific Ocean._

You quickly grabbed one of the free medical masks placed on a shelf to hide your face, put on your hood and headed very slowly towards the door.

"Hurry up, we gotta get back to the..."

The man next to Matsuda stopped, looked around and took a deep sniff.

"Hey." He whispered to the other cop. "Do you smell that?"

"Aizawa, I can _barely_ feel my face, how do you think I..." Aizawa growled and put a finger on his lips to shush Matsuda.

"Isn't that the smell of... _cannabis_?"

You choked on your milk, realizing what they were talking about.

 _You brought the smell all the way from the meet-up._

You walked faster, but still silently. The door was only a few steps left.

"Do you think it's coming from the back of the store?" Matsuda asked his partner.

"Impossible." He replied. "I've been in this neighborhood for years. The owner of this conbini is clean."

 _'Okay, alright, just open the door now. Relax. They won't suspect you. ...After all, you're just a young woman dressed like a gangster.'_

You carefully grabbed the door handle and let out a sigh of satisfaction. Finally out―

"Hey! You!" Aizawa yelled.

 _'Oh well, fuck it.'_

You threw your milk on the floor and ran away from the conbini as fast as possible, having the two cops in hot pursuit after you. _No way_ were you going to explain to Matsuda what you were doing there.

"HEY! STOP THERE!"

You crossed the road and ran for a few minutes, zigzagging in the backstreets and alleys of the city. You could still hear their feet squishing on the wet asphalt, yelling at you.

 _'Fuck',_ you thought, _'I'm way too slow, I won't make it...'_

You mentally cursed your past job. Being a forensic psychologist wasn't like being a field cop or a fireman: there was no movement involved, and after a year and a half of working and studying at the Kanto PD, you've easily gone soft. Of course, you did your best to stay healthy: you often went to the gym, and you were actually quite in shape, but...

These guys had been training for _years_.

 _'The ex-boyfriend I left without saying goodbye is now pursuing me with a gun…seems legit.'_

You got into a very small alley that didn't allow you much movement: there was maximum 14 inches between the two walls, and you had to unzip your hood and throw it on the ground to be able to get to the other end. You chuckled when you saw the men struggle to get in the narrow lane, blocked by the pistols attached on their belts and the fact that they were sturdier than you. When you realized you arrived at a dead-end, you hid behind a trash container, hoping your dark clothes would help you fade in with the somber shade of the wall.

Frustrated, Aizawa cussed again and tried to find another way to get to you, but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He angrily answered, then awkwardly apologized, mumbled quietly something that resembled to an _alright_ and hung up.

"We gotta go." He said to his partner. "Light needs us."

Matsuda sighed and grabbed the hood you'd thrown in your course.

"You're lucky the Kira investigation is more important than some drugs dealing brats―" He yelled at you before getting slapped on the head by Aizawa.

"Shut up! Now move your ass and let's get back to the HQ."

You let out a sigh of relief after making sure they were gone, still panting. You had developed anemia through your college years, due to a lack of iron (you mostly drank milk and ate yogurt all day, rarely cooking with vegetables or meat), and shortness of breath or malaise was a very common thing you'd experience when too much physical effort was involved.

You decided to rest against the dirty container for a while: you felt like your head was exploding.

 _Snap, snap._

You unsteadily jumped on your feet when you heard a sound coming from above you. An acute pain crossed your temples, and you were barely able to look up.

A blonde young man was standing on a balcony, facing only a brick wall. He was leaning on the railing, munching what looked like an Oh!Henry bar: he didn't even mind you being there, and had probably witnessed the pursuit from the very beginning. How embarrassing.

As the pain grew stronger, you thought that maybe you could ask the boy for a bit of his bar: the Oh!Henry brand had peanuts in it, which are rich in iron. It could help you regain a little bit of strength and go back to the meet-up, take Lea's car keys and get back home safe and sound.

"Hey." You said, weakly.

He didn't even bother looking at you, still nibbling his chocolate. You moaned and called again.

"Hey!"

Only his eyes moved when he heard you groan, and it was probably the coldest eyes you've ever seen. A shiver crossed your spine.

"Uh, look, I know it's very random but…" You were troubled by his careless stare but kept talking. "I'm kind of an anemic person and I'm really lacking iron right now, so uh…"

Still nibbling.

"…A bit of that chocolate could help me regain a little bit of strength?" You shyly ended.

He kept staring at you for a minute, obviously not planning on helping you in any way. You sighed and gave up: you had no more energy to argue with someone, especially a cold-hearted blonde effeminate twat.

You slid your back against the wet metal of the container. All the events that occurred in the past year suddenly came back to your mind, as if your sickness wasn't enough of a pain to bear.

One year of mourning. One year of searching for something that could get you closer to your goals. One year of searching for _Kira._

Your brother was not a criminal, and you knew it. He died for a murder he didn't commit. He was the victim of an unfair justice ― if that was even called _justice_. You felt like it was your fault, that you were in part responsible of his death: you felt you didn't _protect_ him enough. But at the same time, you somehow _knew_ nothing could've protected him from that evil power.

Nothing could ever protect _anyone_ from Kira's power.

A flow of emotions passed through you at that very moment. You couldn't hold it back: you've done it for so long now you had no power against it. You burst into tears, your face in your hands.

"DAMNIT!" You screamed. "FUCKING KIRA!"

You tried to stop crying, but you couldn't: your breath was getting heavier as the tears rolled on your cheeks.

"…Fucking police…Fucking ex that can't take care of himself…Fucking KPD…" You muttered, stammering between sobs.

As you were about to pass out of fatigue, something squishy and heavy fell on your head, causing you to let out a small scream.

You rubbed your head, looking from where the thing fell. The blonde man was still leaning on the balcony railing, munching chocolate like a kid.

"There's no way I'm sharing my bar." He said. "Eat that shit and shut the fuck up, whiny. I can't hear myself thinking."

Frowning, you took the small plastic bag and opened it. It was a bunch of dried raisins.

"…Wow, thanks a lot blondey!"

You let out a sigh of relief and thanked the boy again despite his shitty attitude towards you. Dried fruits were very high in iron: just like nuts. It was perfect.

You sit on the ground and put a handful of raisins in your mouth as the blond guy watched you in silence.

"Not that I'm interested or anything." he started, "But why were these two pigs running after you?"

You looked at him, munching your raisins, and explained the whole drug thing. You knew it was a stranger, but didn't care anymore.

"One of the two guys was my ex-boyfriend. We used to work together when I was studying forensic psychology at the Police Station." You chuckled, still feeling bad for Matsuda. "I left him without saying goodbye…"

An uneasy silence came from both of you. Well, more from you: the boy kept silent during all your speech, not even a slight sign of interest in his face.

"He's such a blunderer. I don't how he got in the anti-Kira task force."

The young man's eyes lit up when you said that last sentence, but you didn't notice.

"The…anti-Kira task force?"

You nodded, ate the last few raisins in the bag and stood up.

"Well." You said, smiling. You were already feeling better, thanks to the chocolate-eating twat (who, in the end, wasn't so mean in your eyes). "Thank you very much for the dried fruits. It really helped."

The blonde didn't say anything as you waved and left the alley.

He knew where you were going, since he was also supposed to be there. Rod, his boss, had hired a new team for their hacking skills, and apparently for their _mind scanning_ expert. He didn't believe it at first, but now that he heard you talking about your past relationship with the KPD, he knew that you had some link with that team. He didn't know why you left the police, but as he heard you talk, he concluded it was Kira-related: the hatred you expressed when talking about them was obvious. It proved him that either you had lost someone due to Kira, either you were a pacifist fighting for human rights. He chose the first hypothesis.

He opened a new chocolate bar and began his usual nibbling.

 _Snap._

He had some plans for you.


	4. Part 3

"Why are you late?" Light scolded without even looking at the two men.

Aizawa, still panting a little after that night's pursuit, pointed his younger colleague with his thumb.

"Matsuda needed help with...Something." He coughed. "So we went to a convenience store near Gotanda."

Matsuda nervously nodded, tankful his partner didn't mention him being hung over. Light turned away from his computer and stared at them for a second.

"What's that you're holding?" He said raising an eyebrow to Matsuda.

"Oh, this?" Matsuda gave your hoodie to Light. "We ran after a drug dealer but he got away."

Light inspected the cloth with curiosity.

"Well, actually..." Started Aizawa "...we're not even sure it was a dealer or a consumer. We just noticed a strange smell when entering the conbini and I deduced it was cannabis."

"Smell the fabric, it still has a hint of marijuana." Matsuda said.

Light looked closely at the hoodie, rolled his eyes and threw it back into Matsuda's hands, who clumsily caught it before it fell to the ground.

"There are no particles of herbs or powder on the cloth, which means the person had no contact with drugs. Some clothes absorb smells like smoke or food because of the material they're made up of: the cloth acts like a net as the fabrics are very finely woven together and this allows some of the odor to pass through, but it will also catch a significant amount of the odor as well..."

He sighed and turned back to his computer monitor.

"The wearer probably went to a party or any kind of group meeting, and he panicked when you started running after him...if he was able to outrun two trained cops, I'm pretty sure he wasn't high on marijuana."

The rest of the team were subjugated. Aizawa and Matsuda strongly blushed in embarrassment as Light gave them the right to go and rest for a moment in the living room.

Matsuda closed to door and jumped on the couch, a hand on his forehead. His partner sat on the opposing side, facing him.

"I can't believe we're so stupid." Aizawa stated.

Matsuda chuckled.

"Well, at least we know we haven't been outran by a junkie."

"Yeah..." Aizawa mumbled. "That would've been insulting."

The two men stared at each other for a while, then started laughing.

"Alright, I'll bring some coffee." The older man said. "Wait here and don't do anything stupid."

Matsuda nodded and stared at the man until he left the room. He yawned and headed to the mirror on the wall, arranged his messy hair and sighed as he noticed the deep dark circles under his eyes.

 _'I should sleep more...'_

He stretched for a minute, then noticed something on the ground.

 _'Huh?'_

It was a tiny wallet with small flower prints. He opened it and found nothing, except a 10,000 yen bill (approx. 83.63 USD), a used train ticket from the Yoyogi-Uehara metro station and an ID card.

He took the card and realized it was a woman on the picture. She had long, dark hair and was extremely beautiful. Her caramel skin and almond-shaped eyes made him think she probably wasn't Japanese.

 _'A model maybe? Or just a very good-looking foreigner.'_

Oddly, he felt like he had seen that woman somewhere, though he had no idea who it was.

 _'Anyway, that was the person we were pursuing...'_ He grinned. _'Light was right. With a beauty like hers, it wouldn't be surprising to see her at crazy parties.'_

He put the wallet in his jacket's pocket and sat back on the couch.

 _'I could bring it back to its owner. 10,000 yen is still something...'_

He thought about it for a moment, then fell asleep before his colleague came back in the room and slapped him on the head.

* * *

 ** _Three days later_** ****

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"But we have no choice!"

"There is no rule in the mafia that states we can't wear jogging pants."

"But we have to look _cooler_!"

You sighed again and shook your head. The other customers in the shop were staring at both of you: you've been arguing for nearly fifteen minutes on whether you should or not buy that ridiculous outfit Lea was forcing you to try.

"Our task is _not_ to look cool, Lea, but to keep up on the investigation and get rid of that son of a bitch who's doing mass killing, remember?" You whispered.

She rolled her eyes. You knew she was an extremely smart girl, and even though it could be hard to believe, she was the one in charge. But you often had to remind her the whole purpose of your mission and _why_ you were doing what you do.

"I know, (y/n), but it doesn't mean we can't look good while doing it, huh?"

You growled.

"If you really want to buy this outfit, wear it yourself. There is no way I'll walk into a room full of old men in that body-sticking suit." You stuck your tongue out in disgust. "That makes too much leather in one outfit. Do you realize how many animals have been killed for this?" You semi-jokingly asked.

"It's latex...And if you don't want it, then stick with your jogging clothes." She said. "I'd _love_ to see you _'walk in a room full of old men'_ in these pajamas-like rags."

She headed to the cashier and paid with her credit card. As soon as the clothes were hers, she quickly went to the changing rooms and put them on in a flash.

Your eyes widened when she got out. You raised an eyebrow.

"How do I look?" She asked, smiling with all her teeth.

"You, uh...Well, you look like an Hispanic Catwoman." You stated. "And you don't look cooler. You look _hotter_."

Her bright red lips formed a grin and you kept talking about your ideas for the investigation on the way home. It was already night, but you decided to walk anyway.

Rod Ross, the leader of the Mafia organization who invited you to their meet-up few days ago, had called that morning to announce a meeting to formalize your membership. Usually, it would take up to many years, sometimes decades before someone is accepted in the mafia: so that they can quietly make their researches on the potential new member.

But times had changed.

Time was something they couldn't count on anymore. They didn't know how their future would turn out: _"Are we gonna get killed? Will we die before the end of our mission? Do we have the time_ _to finish our task?"_

But knowing your team had very high hacking skills, they couldn't help but accept you. Also, your "mind-scanning" or "mentalism" skills, as they said, were a very important asset they would gain when accepting your group. You knew these were rumors: you were a very talented and popular forensic psychologist before leaving the police, and you were often able to second-guess people's thoughts, but it had nothing to do with mentalism or any kind of magic.

You couldn't tell them that, of course: stating you've worked as a forensic psychologist would lead them to the conclusion that you were ― or still are ― with the police. That would get your whole team killed in a snap.

The only way to get into their organization was to pretend. Indeed, you definitely did _not_ like to lie, but there was a part of truth in your sayings: you were _actually_ able to "read" some people's minds easily, but not always. To understand the person's thoughts, you had to put yourself in their shoes, to imagine their feelings and emotions and try to imagine yourself in their situation.

But you couldn't always get it right, and you wished that the people who hired you would understand.

Lea closed the door as you both walked into the apartment. Her black catsuit made her look like some kind of mysterious and sexy superhero, and the thought of her flying to the rescue of innocents made you chuckle.

"You do realize your task is to sit behind a computer monitor to access private files, right?" You asked, heading to the kitchen. "I'm not sure the way you're dressed would be very comfortable after two hours of sitting at a desk..."

"It gives me motivation to follow my diet." She replied, following you and grabbing an apple on the counter.

"By the way." She started. "I noticed the sweater I handed you disappeared after the other day's events. May I ask what happened to it?"

You laughed a little, then took a milk carton out of the fridge and started drinking.

"I forgot to tell you. I lost it when those two cops were running after me."

She raised her eyebrows and took a bite of her apple.

"That's too bad. One of my wallets was in that jacket." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's alright, as long as they didn't get you."

You smiled and wiped some milk from your upper lip.

Lea's family owned _Indra Sistemas IDR,_ a company specialized in information technologies, simulation & automatic test equipment, and defense electronic equipment. Indra was the first multinational in Spain and one of the leading companies in Europe and Latin America specializing in IT: its yearly revenue was above 2.89 billion U.S. dollars. Which meant her family was _extremely_ rich.

You only met her during her last year of high school as she was a year older than you, but you felt a strong connection to her from the very beginning. She shared your ideas and was an extremely intelligent person. Despite her bad jokes and her seductive character (she _really_ liked flirting), Lea knew when to be serious and focus on a specific task: as soon as you called her after your brother's death, she flew all the way from Massachusetts (she had just graduated from the MIT while you were still studying) to help you with your investigation. When you told her you had started a manhunt for Kira, she accepted to join you without any hesitation. You didn't know why she had accepted so easily, but you were glad to have her by your side.

Anyway, you knew a poor wallet containing a 10,000 yen bill didn't mean anything to her.

As you were going to ask her when was the meeting planned, four loud knocks came from the door. Lea gasped when she heard the thumps and slowly walked towards the door.

"Holy shit, calm the heck down, I'm―"

She was interrupted by a loud thud as a bunch of masked beefy men kicked the door and entered the house in a flash. She couldn't even scream as one of them smashed a piece of fabric on her mouth, causing her to faint few seconds later.

 _'Chloroform'_ You thought, the fear slowly invading you. You definitely did not want to get kidnapped.

You hid under the counter on all fours and tried to get to the balcony door, but a strong hand grabbed your left ankle and tried to drag you towards them. You let out a scream and kicked in the air, hitting the man in the face. He let out a groan and got up on his feet: you couldn't see his face as it was hidden by a white blank mask, but you could guess he was angry. You reached the door panting and jumped from your balcony to your downstairs neighbor's balcony, then to the other, then finally reached the ground. You mentally thanked Trenton, a member of your team, for the exhausting parkour classes he had been giving you before he moved to the U.S.

You hid behind a wall as the men were taking Lea into a black van with tinted windows. You were about to run in the opposite way to seek some help, but the reality hit you:

 _Where in the world would you find help?_

You definitely could not go to the police station, for obvious reasons. Your team was dispersed across the world.

You had no―

"Here you are, little brat."

A strong hand grabbed your arm and put a wet tissue on your face. You tried to fight against it, but you were slowly passing out as the man put your half-unconscious body on his shoulder.

Your last thought went to the milk carton you left on the counter.

 _'I gotta get back home before it starts smelling...'_

Then everything became dark.


End file.
